


Some Longing, Some Deadly Fear

by thegreennoodle



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Biting, Blood, Bram Stoker-style, Classic Vampires, Dark, Dream Manipulation, Dubious Consent, Garlic and Crosses, Guns, Holy Water, Hypnotism, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Stakes, Stalking, Stucky Big Bang 2016, Supernatural - Freeform, Vampire!Bucky, Vampires, coffins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7808899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreennoodle/pseuds/thegreennoodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After spending nearly a century as a vampire, James Barnes had lost almost all sense of what it was to be human. That didn’t stop him from being lonely. When he comes across Steve Rogers one night, James believes that he might have finally found a permanent companion, and he will go to great lengths to keep his love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Longing, Some Deadly Fear

James Barnes couldn't remember how it felt to be human.

The days of his mortality were so long ago. The world had been a different place. The time of his youth had been filled with sunlight and laughter and family. There were friends and girls and dances. Parents to love and nag him and little sisters to protect. But that was all before the war, before his turning, before he became the creature he was now.

Dwelling on the past never did any good. James hardly spared his old life a thought. There was no point in it. They were all long gone. But that didn't stop their faces and voices from haunting his dreams, sometimes. 

 

James woke to the sight of the lid of his coffin. As usual, the remnants of his dream faded quickly, and then there was only one thing on his mind. He pushed up the lid and sat up in the box. It was a simple thing he made himself. The maple wood was sturdy enough to endure his constant traveling. There was no cushioning inside of it. James had no need for such comfort, and he fell asleep as soon as he climbed in and shut his eyes each dawn. 

The air was cool and damp in the abandoned warehouse he was currently nesting in. James wasn't bothered in the slightest about it. He had come to appreciate the cold over the years. It made people less likely to question his cool skin.

There was a plastic clothing rack nearby where James kept his sparse wardrobe. New York was a big city. No one would recognize him as long as he hunted somewhere different each night. Who cared if he wore the same thing a few nights in a row? Of course, that didn't mean that he went out without looking his best. Humans always wanted to trust a pretty face.

There was no use for mirrors in the warehouse. He had not seen his own reflection in nearly seventy years. It was a wonder that he even remembered what he looked like. Somewhere in the old suitcase that carried his few belongings, there was a crumbled old drawing of him. It was made by a fellow soldier in his unit, way back when. James did not like to look at it. It was a reminder of the life he once had. He felt no connection to the grinning young man in uniform depicted on the yellowing paper. 

James had always possessed a talent for cleaning up. He selected from the rack a pair of tight black jeans and a thin gray shirt. Over that went a matching black pea coat. Nice, but not unapproachable. The weather was swiftly becoming warmer. He wouldn't be able to dress like this much longer without gaining a few odd looks. James combed back his long hair into a ponytail. He didn't want to risk getting any blood in it. Things could get messy if he wasn't careful.

His years in the army had left his body strong. He knew that he could lift a truck over his head with little effort, but his inner predator liked to look the part, too. Not a bad way to be stuck for all eternity, or however long he existed.

James didn't know where his powers came from. They were simply part the curse, he supposed. After his life as a human ended, James spent much time learning what he could do. Even if doing so wasn't always his choice. Back then, there was much pain and much confusion. For a time, all he knew was that he was different, and very, very thirsty.

James did not read supernatural thrillers or old penny dreadfuls growing up, so he only knew what he had become from the whisperings of his German and Russian masters.

 _Vampir. Vampire._

 

It was exciting to see how this city changed and grew over the years. James had vague memories of how it was when he was a boy, back before all these impossibly tall buildings and neon lights.

He returned here after he escaped his handlers in the early sixties. He could have gone anywhere, really. He had picked up his fair share of languages in his time in captivity. But the pull to his old home was strong. Maybe he just craved something familiar, or maybe some part of him thought he could reclaim his old life. Either way, James was glad he came back. 

His first objective after waking was always searching for his next meal. It's what drove his entire existence. The most he'd gone without a drink since escaping captivity was only three days. Three long, maddening days. Sometimes he couldn't think straight until he had fed. But afterwards, James liked to enjoy the city he called home. He wasn't a mindless beast. James still enjoyed movies and museums and baseball and books. Every creature needed entertainment. The world around him was ever changing and he wanted to keep up with it.

People disappeared in New York every day. No one ever searched for his prey for too long. Once he was finished with them, James always made sure to dispose of the bodies in a discreet place. Dropping the remains in the harbor usually did the trick. Tearing apart limbs and burying them under concrete, while also effective, was more time consuming. James tore off the piece of skin that showed the marks from his fangs. Even if they identified the drained body, it wouldn't attract any unwanted attention. It had been decades since James last encountered a hunter, and he wold be happy to go even longer without some poor fool running at him with a wooden stake.

He walked among the throngs of people littering the sidewalks for awhile. Artificial light and the sound of hundreds of conversations flooded his senses. The night was still young and he was in no hurry to return to the warehouse. James breathed in deeply and sighed. The rich smell of fresh blood was everywhere. It made his already dry throat ache for relief. 

James decided to head towards the nearest club. If his looks didn't get him in, then he could always _persuade_ the bouncer. It was so easy to bend humans to his will. Their weak minds always surrendered to his desires. Once inside, he would find some sweet smelling girl or boy and turn on the charm. After they were in his power, he would take them to a secluded place to drink from them. If he wasn't desperate for a drink, James would pause to fuck them. They might as well die happy, right? Then it was just a quick job of getting rid of the body and then off to enjoy the rest of the night. Maybe he would go for a walk in the park. James loved how the trees looked in the moonlight.

He was about to turn the corner when a shout from the alleyway across the street caught his attention. James turned his head out of mild curiosity. People got mugged every night. James wasn't about to step in and play hero.

The expected players were involved: two brawny men who looked like they didn't have a brain between them, a scared girl, and a little guy. Expect the scene wasn't playing out as usual. The girl was running away with the promise of calling the police while the little guy had his fists raised to his assailants. James' lips twitched with amusement. It wasn't often he saw such chivalry in this day and age. If the smaller man didn't give off the scent of an adult, James would have thought he was a kid.

His grin turned to a frown when one of the thugs punched the skinny blond in the nose, causing him to fall to the ground. James felt his hands curl into fists. He had seen worse happen over the years. Why did this make him want to stalk over and rip that man's heart out?

The scent of the little guy's blood hit his nostrils. Something about it was off, as if the guy was sick, and yet it was enticing. James wanted a taste of it. 

He made up his mind when one of the goons raised his foot to kick the blond some more. In the blink of an eye, James was in front of him and had him by the throat. The man and his companion let out surprised yelps. 

The little guy's breathing was steady. He had been knocked unconscious. Good. Things would be more difficult if he witnessed this.

The men were intoxicated, which meant their blood would be thin. Oh well. James could find something better later on if he wanted to. The squirming idiot in his hands didn't have time to cry out before James snapped his head to the side and bit into his neck, ignoring the screams of his prey's companion. Definitely not the best blood he'd ever tasted, but it soothed his dry throat. James drained the man completely in less than a minute. And there was still room for more.

He let the carcass fall to the ground and turned to the other thug. The man cried out and started toward the mouth of the alley. All that did was appeal to the vampire's predatory instincts. James seized the man by the back of his collar and flung him into the brick wall. The thug groaned and slumped down to the ground. James crouched over him and quickly finished him off, mindful to not get any on his clothes. 

A whimper came from the unconscious blond as James stood. The little guy would be waking soon. He needed to get rid of these bodies fast. James wanted the blond's attention when he woke up. It was hard to have a conversation when the other party was out of their wits with fear. 

Luckily, there was a dumpster in the back of the alley. James dragged the bodies over, removed the tell-tale bite marks, and flung them inside. They would be discovered by tomorrow, but it wasn't like the police would be able to track him down.

The blond was making more noises. James smiled and leaned over him. There was blood still pooling at the guy's nose. It dripped down his mouth and chin. The sight made James lick his lips. Before he even realized what he was doing, James ran his fingers through the mess and brought it to his mouth. It did taste as odd as it smelled. Maybe the little guy was anemic? 

Despite the sub-par flavor, James wiped off more blood from the pale face and eagerly tasted it. There was a strangely addictive quality to it, though. It was much more satisfying than those drunken goons had been.

He propped the little guy against the wall behind them and patted the side of his face. How long had it been since James had a real conversation? He was excited to talk to this half-conscious little idiot. Was that pathetic of him?

The blond groaned and finally opened his eyes. Despite their bleariness, James could see that they were a beautiful shade of blue, with little flecks of green shining through. “W-Who-”

James smiled and turned on the _charm_. He didn't want the smaller man to see James' peculiar teeth and eyes and shut off. “Hey, there,” he greeted. “I'm James. What's your name?”

The little guy blinked, trying to clear his head. “...I'm Steve,” he replied after a moment. The blond tried to sit up higher and glared when James eased him back down. Ooh, this one had a strong will.

“You took a hard hit,” James soothed. “Were those men trying to rob you?” 

Steve shook his head a bit, causing him to wince from the pain. “No, they...they were botherin' some girl. Someone had to help her.”

“And that someone was you?” James said. He ran a hand over Steve's thin cheek.

Steve angrily slapped it away. Hmm, he was fun to tease. “No one else was going to.”

James could see a question forming on those thin lips. “Forget about them,” he ordered. “They're none of your concern.”

His power quickly took effect. Steve's eyes dulled for a few seconds and he blinked rapidly. “Wha-”

“Why don't we get you home?” James suggested. “You look like you could use some rest. I'll help you there, just show me the way.”

Steve nodded and only grumbled a bit when James pulled him to his feet and kept an arm around Steve's torso. The blond fitted nicely against him.

This night suddenly became much more interesting.

 

Steve's apartment was in one of the poorer parts of Brooklyn. There were six rows of windows set in the unpainted brick. The building wasn't completely dilapidated but it was obviously in need of some repairs. 

Bucky guided Steve inside and went to the elevator. Any odd looks they were given were met with a smile from James. The smallest bit of his will was imposed, and all the curious tenants averted their gaze.

“Which floor?” he asked once they were inside the metal box.

“Four,” Steve mumbled.

James pushed the button and waited patiently for the elevator to go up. Did it always lag for a few moments? 

It had been years since James had been inside a public house. The constant smell of blood would drive him mad if the suspicious neighbors didn't run him out first. 

Steve's floor wasn't anything special. Gray carpet and ugly orange wallpaper. Identical doors lined the walls. Steve directed James to a room towards the end of the hallway. Steve fumbled in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a key and unlocking his door. Damn. This is where things got complicated. James could feel the invisible barrier that was keeping him from entering Steve's home. He couldn't come in without permission. What if his new companion told James to beat it now that he was safely home?

“Steve,” he asked, “may I come in?”

The blond raised his brow at him. “Yeah, come on.”

James grinned and helped Steve walk inside his apartment. The scent of paint was prominent throughout the minuscule space. They entered the living room, which was connected to a kitchenette. On the opposite wall was another door which James assumed lead to the bedroom. Steve's walls were decorated with colorful oil paintings and charcoal sketches. His coffee table was littered with drawing pads and pencils and worn brushes. There was no scent of another person. Steve must live alone.

James set Steve down on the second hand couch. The blond groaned and rubbed his head. “Uh, James, was it? Thanks for getting me back here. Not everyone would stop to help a stranger.”

“Bucky.” The word escaped his lips before he could stop it.

“What?”

“You can call me Bucky, if you want. My friends do.” All of James' friends were lost to him over seventy years ago. No one had called him that stupid nickname ever since. And yet, James had a strong desire to hear Steve say it. 

Steve responded with a kind, if a bit confused, smile. “Sure thing...Bucky.” 

There was an odd stirring in James' chest. Yeah, he liked Steve saying his name a lot.

Steve looked around his small home. “Sorry for the mess. I don't get many guests.”

“Me neither,” James said. Not that he even wanted them. 

“Can I get you anything?” Steve asked. “Something to drink?”

James chuckled. “No. I've had plenty to drink tonight.”

Steve gave him a strange look. Did he say the wrong thing? Thankfully, the blond changed the subject. “Do you live in the neighborhood? I don't think I've seen you around before.”

James shrugged, trying to be casual. “I move around the city a lot. I don't think I've been to this particular area before.” He didn't come here to talk about himself. James nudged a pastel drawing of a cat that rested on the arm of the couch. “So I take it you're an artist?”

Steve laughed quietly. “What gave it away? Yeah, this is what I do for a living. Most of my money comes from commissions. I've been trying to get a job at the art shop a couple blocks away. Nothing beats a steady paycheck.”

James nodded. He hadn't had to worry about such things in decades. The space was clean and warm, so Steve must earn enough to take care of himself. Not that Bucky had much better to offer him. (And _why_ was he thinking like that?)

“Uh, Bucky? I don't wanna be rude, but I've got this killer headache. I think I'll have to sleep it off.” Steve's rubbed at the sore spot on his head for emphasis. “I swear I'm not kicking you out or anything, but-”

“No, I understand,” Bucky soothed. “You took a nasty fall.”

Steve's eyes lidded. James knew the blond couldn't fight the vampire's tampering with memories. But if Steve became too confused then he would start to ask more questions.

James couldn't resist gripping Steve's shoulder. How long had he gone without touching another without the intention to hunt? “I'll leave you to rest then, Steve. I hope to see you around some more.”

Steve blinked slowly as the vampire's manipulative powers overtook him again. His subconscious would recognize the command. “Yeah, you too, Buck.”

As James left the building, all he could think of is how he was going to get back in. It seemed he finally found something to keep him entertained.

.

Steve was having trouble sleeping. 

Over the past week, strange dreams kept him tossing and turning. He could never remember them entirely in the morning. All he could recall were flashes of blue eyes and red lips. A smile made of too-white teeth and a cold hand on his face.

Steve was friendly with some of his neighbors. There was Sam Wilson, a former pilot in the military who now worked with troubled veterans, and lived a few doors down from Steve. Across the hall were Natasha and Clint, a nice couple who usually kept to their own business, unless they wanted to hang out. The small group would get together if they weren't busy or tired, which was twice a week at most. 

One day when they were playing cards in Nat and Clint's living room and she brought up the bags under his eyes, Steve decided to tell them about the dreams. He always felt so...weird when he woke up from them, like there wasn't something right going on. Steve figured it would help to talk about it.

“Sounds freaky,” was all Clint offered. Not that Steve expected Clint to be a dream reading expert.

“Sounds like you keep dreaming about the same guy,” Natasha stated as she drew a card from the pile. She smirked. “Finally found a boyfriend?”

Steve blushed and sputtered. “No! Nothing like that. It's just, I don't know, do you think it means something? I've never had recurring dreams before.”

Clint shrugged. “Did you see any scary movies lately?”

Sam took a swig of his beer before chiming in. “Well, I'm no expert on these things, but maybe you're...lonely? I mean, you said there was a mouth and a lot of touching.”

Steve felt his face grow hotter as Clint busted out laughing. “Just forget it,” he groaned. “I'm getting another beer.”

 

Later that night, he awoke to the sound of fluttering at his window. He was surprised to see a large black bat hovering outside the glass. It squeaked and tapped the barrier between them.

_Let me in._

He felt compelled to obey the familiar voice. Steve pushed the covers off of him and got on his knees to unlatch the window.

He woke the next morning feeling more tired than ever.

 

James stared into Steve's bedroom window from across the street. With his enhanced vision, he could perfectly see the slow rise and fall of his prey's chest. The sight made him smile. James had been coming to visit for the past two weeks. By now, he had figured out Steve's sleep schedule.

He quickly checked to make sure no one was around to witness what he was about to do. It took nothing more than a thought for his body to change form. It didn't hurt, but it was always strange how his bones and muscles would shrink and twist into something else. Once changed, he beat his wings hard, eager to get to Steve's window. The smaller man responded to his calls easier each time. James barely had to prod his mind.

Bucky flew in as soon as the window was opened wide enough. He switched back to his body and loomed over Steve's bed. The blond was sitting up with his eyes closed. Still fast asleep. He looked so good with the moonlight shining on his skin and hair. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat made James' mouth water.

He cupped Steve's face in his hands and stroked his bony cheeks with his thumbs. “Hey, pal,” he grinned. “Did you miss me?”

Steve made a small noise in response. How adorable.

As thin and weak as Steve was, James knew that he couldn't take too much from him. The vampire had taken to feeding before coming on his visits. He didn't want the thirst to overtake him when he was with Steve.

He carefully lifted up the hem of Steve's shirt and peeled it off of him. He didn't want to risk staining it. Steve remained motionless, completely under James' influence. He used two fingers to gently prod Steve's head to the side and located the two faint bite marks at the base of Steve's neck. James wondered if the blond had noticed them yet.

James sat down close next to his prey and got a firm grip on his shoulders. Steve's blood had become addictive to him. As much as blood from a healthier human would taste better, something about Steve's kept bringing him back. 

He was careful as he slid his fangs into Steve's pale neck. Steve let out a grunt but made no other movement. James sucked slowly, both savoring the taste and prolonging the feeding. This brought him an unusual sense of joy. Having Steve like this brought back faint memories of warm hugs and comfort and holding pretty girls close as they danced. It made him feel like he wasn't alone.

James hadn't realized how much he missed that feeling.

He stopped feeding after a few mouthfuls. He didn't want to cause any lasting harm to Steve. And how unlike him that was. He had spent decades ripping and biting his way through through armies and cities, and this little guy gave him pause. Maybe it wasn't just Steve's blood that was special to James. 

James meticulously licked off the blood that dribbled onto Steve's shoulder before slipping the blond's shirt back on him. Now it was time for a different kind of fun. 

He eased Steve back onto his mattress and cuddled close to him. He had never gotten to do anything like this while he was still human. Too young and stupid to settle down with a girl before the war came. 

It was peaceful like this. The only sound in the room was Steve's breathing. James laid his ear against Steve's chest and listened his heart, which was pumping faster to replenish the lost blood. Not for the first time, James wished the dawn wouldn't come. He was content to lay this way for a long time.

He nuzzled against the bony chest as he started to poke into Steve's mind. Steve's dreams were a clutter of nonsense, really. Faces and words and places came together to form bizarre scenes and stories. It took little effort to morph them into something better. James filled Steve's mind with images of him. Nothing too risqué, but enough to make Steve subconsciously yearn for him. Never before had James used this power for his own pleasure, and he was finding it rewarding. He put in images of himself dressed in his best clothing, in expensive suits that he wished he owned. Holding Steve's hand, embracing him. Steve focused on James' mouth before they met in the middle. Steve happy with him, wanting to listen and obey.

Steve's hand came up to touch James' head. James smiled and closed his eyes.

 

James began to dread returning to the cold, damp warehouse at the end of every night, where only his coffin waited to greet him. If he could, James would lay with Steve in his bed all day. Steve's small apartment held more warmth and life than anywhere James had resided over the last seventy years. 

He used to fall asleep as soon as he closed the lid, but now he would lie awake for some time. The once comfortable box was suddenly too small, too unwelcoming. It was just big enough for him. No room for anyone to crawl in and lay with him. He never thought that he would want anyone to. James fell asleep alone, woke up alone, and until recently, spent his nights alone.

It hurt when it dawned on him just how lonely he was. Yes, he knew he was isolated, but he had never craved another's company since he turned all those years ago. Or maybe...that was just what he told himself. Had James been in denial about needing company all this time to protect himself? Or was he only now beginning to crave it?

James particularly wanted the companionship of one person. The thought of Steve made him smile. The addictive, delicious blond who fit so well in his arms. James enjoyed their nights together, but now he wanted more. Watching and molding Steve's dreams only told James so much about the smaller man. James wanted to properly talk to Steve. He wanted to learn all about Steve from the guy's own mouth. He wanted Steve's attention on him and he was going to get it. 

James finally drifted off to the thought of how enjoyable the next evening would be.

 

Steve's day had been going normally. He had to finish a commission painting for one of wealthy Mrs. Dubont's rich people parties, who in turn paid him generously. His landlord stopped by for the third time that week to remind him that rent was due soon. He was almost positive that he saw a roach in his bathroom that morning.

The only issue was that he was so damn _tired_. Not that Steve was used to having an abundance of energy. His weak immune system ensured that he at least had a cold every few weeks. But this was different. He would wake up in the morning feeling drained, but he didn't have a fever or headache or cough. His already milky skin looked even paler. Sometimes there would be a pain in his neck that only went away with a slightly higher dose of Advil than was recommended. He found himself drinking an entire pot of coffee some days to stay awake.

At least being self-employed meant he didn't have to leave his apartment if he didn't want to. Steve could rest whenever he felt the need. He just had to be careful not to sleep half the day.

The sun had just set and Steve was rummaging through his kitchen cupboards. He hadn't been grocery shopping in a few weeks. It looked like boxed macaroni for dinner again.

He was startled by a knock at the door. Steve knew that Clint and Natasha were having a date night, and Sam was visiting some old army friends, so it couldn't be them. 

Steve opened the door fully expecting to yelled at by his landlord again. Instead, he was greeted by someone he honestly never thought he'd see again.

“Bucky?” he asked. Oh lord, Steve hoped he got the guy's name right.

The taller gave gave him a close-lipped smile. “Hey, Steve,” he greeted. “Can I come in?”

It didn't even occur to Steve to say no. “Yeah, sure.” He moved aside so Bucky could come in and then shut the door. “So, uh what brings you here? I haven't seen you in a few weeks.”

Bucky's smile widened slightly, making Steve feel like he was missing out on some joke. He shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood. Figured I'd stop by and visit.” His eyes seemed to bore into Steve. “If that's alright?”

Steve's brain suddenly felt heavier in his skull. “Yeah, that's fine.” He hadn't been expecting company tonight, nor did he really want it right now: when he was almost out of food and his painting supplies were everywhere. Despite this, Steve did not want to turn Bucky away.

Bucky made a happy little noise and looked around. Steve hoped he wasn't being judged for the mess. “Were you busy?”

“I was, earlier,” Steve answered, sounding a bit awkward. He wasn't good at talking to people he didn't know well. And Steve wasn't blind. Bucky was a good looking guy. Steve didn't want to make a fool out of himself in front of his guest. Not that he thought he really had a chance. But Bucky did turn up at his place out of the blue...

“Your pot is boiling,” Bucky pointed out, gesturing to the kitchen with his thumb.

“Oh!” Steve hurried over to the steaming pot and poured in his box of pasta. He was suddenly embarrassed to be eating such a meager meal in front of Bucky. Just judging by his clothes, the other man came from money. Bucky exuded an aura of power and confidence, like he was used to getting his way. What could someone like that want with Steve?

Steve cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Can I...get you a drink or anything?” he offered.

Bucky stifled a laugh. Seriously, what was Steve missing here? “No, thank you. I've already had plenty to drink this evening.”

“...Okay, then.” Steve stirred the noodles to avoid awkward small talk. He again wondered why Bucky was here. Did he come to check up on Steve? Steve glanced back to his visitor. The man was busying himself with looking at the many works-in-progress hanging on the walls. He looked impressed, which was a nice boost for Steve's ego. Maybe Steve would get lucky and Bucky would leave soon. There was a part of him that was certainly glad to have this handsome man in his home, but there was something else in Steve's mind that was warning him. Bucky looked harmless enough, but Steve knew not to take people at face-value. 

Bucky appeared content to look over Steve's work in silence, so Steve finished his dinner the same way. He filled a bowl with a decent serving of the macaroni and made his way to the couch. Somehow he doubted that Bucky wanted any.

The taller man came to sit beside him while Steve ate. Bucky's presence washed over him, making Steve feel even smaller. Steve wondered if he should turn the TV on to at least have some kind of normalcy in the room. 

Bucky waited until Steve was done with his bowl to speak. “So, Steve, how have you been?”

A simple enough question. “I've been alright, I guess. Mainly just working, you know.”

Bucky was staring right into his face. It was unsettling, yet Steve didn't want to look away. “You have bags under your eyes. Have you been doing all-nighters?”

Steve blushed. He had hoped the dark circles weren't that noticeable. “No, I've just been kinda tired.”

“Does this happen often?”

“I don't know. Sometimes?” Steve was beginning to feel agitated. Bucky didn't even know Steve well enough to ask him about his sleeping habits. He needed to change the subject. “How about you? Been staying busy and all that?”

Bucky's mouth twitched. What was funny about that question? “You could say that. But, really Steve, I came here to get to know you better. Why don't you tell me about yourself?”

“Uh...” Steve hadn't been expecting this. But one look from Bucky and Steve found himself spilling his life story. He told this practical stranger about his childhood, his mother, his days in art school. He told about the few friends he had, his favorite colors, his favorite kinds of pencils, how much he usually spent at the grocery store. Hell, he even mentioned what size shoe he wore. 

Bucky paid close attention through it all, as if Steve was the most interesting person in the world. One encouraging smile from the other man and Steve felt like he could talk forever. At some point, Bucky had slipped his hand into Steve's. The contact made Steve's heart rate increase. Oh lord, was Bucky actually making a move on him? The other man had scooted closer, so their knees were almost touching.

Steve was suddenly very nervous. He never knew how to handle relationships, and he didn't like how fast this guy was moving. He pulled his hand back. “Hey, it's getting late. I think you should go soon. I still have a lot to do on a project.”

Bucky's eyes narrowed. He obviously wasn't pleased at being told to beat it. “Are you sure? It isn't that late...I like spending time with you.”

Something tugged at Steve, wanting him to let Bucky stay. But he held strong. He was becoming overwhelmed with the feeling that something _wasn't right_. “Yeah, I'm sure, Bucky. I want you to go now.”

Steve could tell that Bucky wanted to argue. He was afraid for a moment about what the guy would do. 

Thankfully, Bucky relented. He sighed and ran a hand over his dark hair. “Look, I'm sorry, Steve. It's been awhile since I've been around...people. I didn't want to upset you.”

He rose to leave, and all Steve wanted to do was pull him back. “Maybe we can try this again?”

Bucky sounded hopeful, and despite his apprehension, Steve wanted to. “Sure, Buck.”

Bucky smiled, and Steve let his defenses down again. “I'll look forward to it.”

Steve kept his eyes glued to Bucky's retreating back. The moment the man left, Steve's mind cleared. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. What the hell just happened? Being around his new acquaintance was enough to overwhelm him.

Maybe he should reconsider seeing Bucky again. Steve didn't know what, but something was going on.

 

James considered going longer periods of time between feeding from Steve, he really did. He felt guilty about taking away the blond's energy. But nothing was as good as Steve's blood anymore. James could drain every drunken scoundrel or sweet-smelling dame in the whole city and not be satisfied. 

He tried to compromise. He would have his fill before going to Steve's bedroom. James could drink a lot in one setting, so there was now an extra body or two to dispose of per night. When he was with Steve, he would only have a small taste. It was enough to placate him for a few days. It reminded James from when he used to smoke as a human. It had been a casual habit, but sometimes he didn't feel right until he had lit up.

They were laying with Steve flush against James front and his face pressed into James' neck. James giggled happily as Steve snuggled closer to him. Perhaps it was only subconsciously, but Steve was getting used to him. It was only a matter of time before he fully accepted James. As much as James loved their nights together, he wanted more from Steve while he was awake.

James realized he wanted to keep this human. He didn't know much about his own kind, admittedly. His maker and trainers only taught him what he needed to know to survive and carry out their dirty work. James had never met any other vampires since he liberated himself, so he couldn't learn from anyone else. Instinct had gotten him through the last few decades. Since meeting Steve, James had begun to suspect that his kind weren't meant to be solitary. Until recently, James didn't want the company of any human, but maybe he would enjoy the company of another vampire. Specifically, a vampire of his own making. One who would be forever attached to him. 

It took James years to be able to break away from his maker, even though he hated the man. James would be different from that bastard. He would gentle and patient and giving. Steve would never want to leave him.

He pulled back so he could look at Steve's face. The smaller man looked so peaceful while he was asleep. Steve was very expressive when he was awake. He was a constant flurry of scowls and grins and narrowed eyebrows. James hoped that wouldn't change. It would be so, so easy to turn Steve right now, while the blond laid still and complacent in his arms. But James didn't want it to be like that. He wanted to wait until Steve desired to be with him, too.

His gaze lowered to Steve's thin lips. Warm breath escaped them and hit James' neck every few seconds. James leaned in closer. Surely there was no harm in a stolen kiss or two? 

He lowered his head and touched his lips to Steve's. Light, experimental. It had been a long while since he had last experienced the sensation, but kissing Steve was... _nice_. He pulled away after a few moments. He could taste Steve on his lips. He chuckled at himself and rested his chin on Steve's head. How silly he was being. 

He couldn't wait for the moment until Steve kissed him back.

 

Steve was shaving one morning when he noticed something weird. A bit a shaving cream dropped from his cheek onto his neck. He brushed it away and wouldn't have thought anymore of it, but two faint marks on his neck caught his eye. Steve leaned closer to the mirror to examine them. Did he cut himself or something?

The marks were pale white, almost blending in with his skin. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say they were scars. Wouldn't he have noticed if his neck had been cut? Two tiny cuts about an inch apart. Where the hell had they come from?

The feeling that something very wrong was happening came over him again. Steve brushed it off and went back to shaving. This was nothing to get worked up about. He probably got the marks after a back-alley fight.

Nothing to worry about.

 

Bucky started to visit him a few times a week. Always after the sun went down, always on days when Steve wasn't busy with a project. Despite his apprehension, Steve always welcomed the man into his home.

Most nights they would hang out in Steve's apartment. Once they became more comfortable with each other, Bucky turned out to be good company. Hell, Steve was becoming friendlier with Bucky than he was with his neighbors. Bucky was more approachable and more courteous than his first visit. He no longer made Steve feel uncomfortable. He looked forward to seeing Bucky a lot nowadays. Steve was becoming attached quickly to the handsome man. He felt like he'd known Bucky for years. Although Bucky could be weirdly quiet at times, he could hold a conversation and tell a great joke. 

Some nights Bucky would offer to take Steve out for dinner, or to a movie, or whatever else Steve felt like doing. At first, Steve tried to deny him. He didn't want anyone else to have to pay for him. But one look from Bucky and Steve would relent. Steve didn't go out much, he was usually too tired or busy, but he enjoyed himself with Bucky. He felt carefree when they were together and he knew he had Bucky's sole attention.

Bucky would always look sharp when he came over. He wore a nice suit if they had plans to go out. Even his casual clothes looked expensive and tailor made. His hair was styled nicely. Seriously, what did a guy like this see in Steve? 

Steve hadn't forgotten about when Bucky tried to make a move on him a few weeks back. He had to be interested in Steve. Why else would he keep showing up, dressed to the nines and spending money on the blond? Bucky was trying to impress him. No other friend ever went that far for Steve. Maybe Bucky was giving Steve some time before coming onto him again. Honestly, Steve was beginning to hope that moment came soon. He hadn't even had a proper date since his first year of art school. Steve wasn't blind. Bucky was a good catch. Even if it didn't last long, they could still have fun.

Tonight they were seated on Steve's couch. A baseball game was on the TV and a half-eaten pizza was on the coffee table. Steve ordered a size bigger than he normally got, just in case Bucky wanted some.

They sat in a comfortable silence. Bucky's attention was on the pitcher on screen, but Steve's focus was on the man next to him. Bucky's hand was only a few inches from his own. Steve could feel his companion's strong presence all around him. He resisted squirming – away from what, he didn't know exactly. Maybe he should be the one to instigate something this time. But what if he was wrong and Bucky wasn't interested? Steve didn't want to drive away his new friend.

Bucky's eyes shifted over to Steve, catching the blond in the act of staring. Steve felt his cheeks get hot, but he didn't look away. God, Bucky's eyes were captivating.

Steve's heart fluttered when Bucky grinned at him. His cold hand slipped over to Steve's. “See something you like, pal?”

Well, it was now or never. Steve responded by scooting closer and tilting his head up. Bucky cupped the back of Steve's head and met him halfway for a kiss. Bucky's lips were as cool as the rest of his skin, but they still felt so _good_. Bucky pressed closer, moving his mouth fast and hungry against Steve's. Steve closed his eyes and placed his hands on Bucky's shoulders. Steve was touch-starved after being single for years, and Bucky seemed equally as eager for affection. He felt Bucky smile against his lips when Steve ran a hand over his companion's hair. 

Steve giggled when Bucky pushed him onto his back and settled on top of him. The taller man's weight was comfortable rather than crushing. Steve relaxed in the new position as Bucky leaned down to kiss him again. Yeah, this was much better than quietly watching the Mets game.

They stayed close and tangled together until Steve's weak lungs needed air. He gently nudged at Bucky until he let up. Bucky propped himself on his elbows and grinned down at Steve. The blond took notice of how red Bucky's lips were, and how sharp his teeth looked in this light. Guy must be a big meat eater.

“Ah, Steve,” Bucky murmured, “I've been waiting for you to do that.”

Steve laughed softly and placed his hand under the hem of Bucky's shirt, running his hand up the taller man's side. Bucky's skin felt cool under Steve's hot hand. “You weren't very subtle.”

Bucky's grin widened and he shrugged. “Didn't want to be.” He leaned down again.

Steve let one hand wander up Bucky's back and settled in his hair. Steve thought it would feel tacky from styling products, but it was smooth and soft. He gasped softly when Bucky nibbled at his bottom lip. The sensation let his nerves on fire. Steve wanted more.

Bucky pulled his mouth away from Steve's and started to kiss down his chin and neck. Steve tilted his head back to give his partner more room. He laughed when Bucky gently took hold of his thin wrists and held them above Steve's head. His grip wasn't tight, so Steve relaxed in the hold.

Bucky continued to kiss and nibble all over Steve's neck, muttering his name every few moments. Steve enjoyed the attention. He bent his legs up so he could lock Bucky in place. The man could easily knock him off, but Steve doubted that would happen.

Bucky nuzzled his face against the base of Steve's neck. “Steve, do you...like me?”

Steve was surprised at the question. Did the past few minutes not give Bucky some sort of clue? “Yeah, Buck, I like you a lot.”

He felt Bucky smile against his skin. “Do you want to be with me?”

Was this Bucky's way of asking him to date? Steve felt like he was missing something. But he was being paranoid over nothing. His attention needed to be on the handsome man on top of him. “Bucky, yes.” 

The relaxed peace was shattered when Steve felt a sharp pain in his neck. He cried out and tried to squirm away, but Bucky pressed down on him. His hands became manacles around Steve's wrists.

“Bucky, what are you - ?”

Since Steve couldn't move, he focused on what was causing the pain. There was definitely something sharp in his neck, like thin shards of glass. His gut curled when he felt suction at the pained area. Was...was Bucky sucking on his neck? Why? Was this some kinky shit he was into?

Steve weakly kicked at Bucky's sides the best he could. It didn't hinder the man on top of him one bit. Steve couldn't struggle as his energy depleted. Was Bucky going to bleed him dry? 

Deep down, Steve knew there was a reason for why Bucky was doing this to him. But that impossible. That shit only happened in the movies.

Steve's vision was beginning to go hazy when Bucky finally pulled off his neck. The taller man hovered over Steve again. Steve let out a strangled cry. Bucky's lips and chin were streaked red with blood. His smile revealed elongated canine teeth. In a rush of understanding, Steve realized that those horrid teeth matched the marks on his neck. Bucky's eyes were paler and the pupils had dilated. The man Steve had thought was a friend had turned into a monster. No, he was always a monster.

“You....you're a- ?”

“A vampire,” Bucky said casually. “I know.”

Okay, deep breaths. Steve could handle this. “That's not possible.” Yeah, denial was the best route.

Bucky shrugged, as if this wasn't a big deal. “Oh, if only.” He ran a cold hand over Steve's cheek, causing the smaller man to flinch. The touch that he welcomed only minutes ago now felt repulsive. “Steve, please.”

“What do you want with me?” Steve demanded. Bucky raised an eyebrow at him, as if the answer was obvious, but Steve continued on. “You've done this to me before, haven't you? I can't - _God_ – I can't be any good. I'm not strong or healthy. You can find someone better to snack on.”

This spiel caused Bucky to laugh. His weird eyes shone with fondness for the blond. “I can't help it, pal. You're irresistible.” He ducked down and would have caught Steve's mouth in another kiss if Steve hadn't quickly turned his head. Bucky's bloody lips pressed against a thin cheek instead, leaving a sticky red mark. 

“Please, just go,” Steve pleaded. His brain was finally making him accept the reality of this situation. He was pinned to his couch under a goddamn vampire. It was a miracle he was still alive. “I won't tell anyone about this.”

Bucky actually looked disappointed. He gently gripped Steve's chin and tilted his head further up. “Didn't you just say you wanted me here, Steve? I like being with you.”

“Please -”

“But not anymore?” Bucky guessed, sighing deeply. For a moment, Steve thought that Bucky would actually climb off of him and get the hell out of Steve's home and life. But he wasn't so lucky. Bucky was smiling again, but there was a new edge in his eyes. “Sorry, pal, but I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you.”

Steve was afraid to think about what that meant. He was going to die here, wasn't he?

Bucky ran a hand through Steve's sweaty hair. “I'm keeping you, Steve.”

His heart skipped a beat. Okay, this situation somehow became worse.

“It might be hard at first, but I'll be there to help you through it,” Bucky continued, as if he were oblivious to Steve's panic. “I'll keep you safe and feeling loved. It will be more than anyone ever did for me. I'll be a good master, you'll see.”

To Steve's continuing horror, Bucky brought a wrist to his mouth and sliced it open, causing thick red liquid to come dribbling out. “Now open up,” Bucky ordered in a teasing voice. 

Steve responded by sucking his lips into his mouth. He wasn't becoming some undead cronie without a fight. The blood dripped onto his sealed mouth and trailed down his chin.

Bucky sighed and tugged lightly on Steve's jaw, trying to force it open. “C'mon, don't make this hard.”

There had to be some way out of this. Steve placed his free hand on Bucky's shoulder and gave the most pleading look he could muster. He gave a small grunt, indicating that he wanted to speak.

Bucky looked annoyed, but surprisingly, he relented. It took nothing more than a lick to his wound for it so seal up. “There's no point in stalling for time, Steve. But fine, what is it?”

Steve quickly wiped his mouth off with his sleeve. Well, this was one shirt he could never wear again. “Bucky, look,” he started, “I know I can't stop you. It's just – not like this, okay? Let me have some dignity.”

Bucky actually looked relieved to hear this. He must really want for Steve to come willingly. “Sure, pal. Anything you want.”

Bucky finally climbed off of the smaller man and helped him sit up. Steve could hear his heartbeat in his ears, it was beating so hard. Okay, he got the _goddamn vampire_ off of him. Steve knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. He only had a few moments at best before Bucky tried to feed him his blood again. He had to get Bucky out of here and keep him out. 

He needed to put some space between them. “I-I need water.” Bucky didn't stop him as he practically sprinted into the kitchen. He needed to come up with a plan fast. He took his time rummaging in the cabinets for a clean glass before filling it with cold water. He sipped at it as he looked around for inspiration. He had knives. Maybe he could fend of Bucky with those. Or it could just piss the guy off. As his eyes trailed over the plastic jars of spices next to the sink, he was struck with an idea. Perhaps some things about vampires were myths, but it was worth a try. 

He was about to reach for a container when a pair of strong hands gripped his hips. Steve hadn't even heard Bucky approaching. How fast was he? 

“Come sit back down, Steve.” Bucky's voice was coaching, gentle. “We need to get this done before the sun rises. Hmm...or maybe we should go back to my place. That would make things easier.”

Well, it was now or never. As fast as he could, Steve grabbed the container of garlic powder, popped off the top, and shook it out above his head. To his eternal relief, it had the desired effect. Bucky hissed and let go of him. Steve turned and brandished the bottle like a weapon. Bucky was hunched over and rubbing furiously at his eyes and face. The skin where the powder touched was turning red. Bucky lifted his head and gave Steve a terrifying glare. If Steve was a weaker willed man, he might have soiled himself. 

“What the hell?” Bucky snarled. He looked ready to lunge at the blond. Steve shook out more powder, distracting the vampire again. This wouldn't last long. He needed something else.

Another idea came to him. If the garlic worked, why shouldn't a cross? Keeping his eyes on Bucky, Steve reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out the large silver crucifix his mother had left him. (He meant to hang it up somewhere in the kitchen, but he kept forgetting to.) Steve held it up between him and Bucky. The taller man stopped his fit and looked up in shock. He let out a hiss at the sight of the cross, reminding Steve of a scared feral cat. 

Steve slowly approached Bucky, and to his great satisfaction, Bucky retreated. 

“Steve, please -” Bucky tried. Steve didn't let up. He backed his former friend into the living room. 

“Get out of here, Bucky,” Steve ordered. “Get out and don't come back.”

Bucky gave him the most loathsome look Steve had ever seen in his life. But as Steve approached again, Bucky admitted defeat. To Steve's astonishment, Bucky's body began to dissolve. It seconds, the vampire had turned into a cloud of mist and exited the room through a nearby window. 

Steve stayed put for a few long moments. His brain was having trouble processing everything that just happened. And what if Bucky was still outside, waiting for Steve to let his guard down? He wanted to deny this, write this whole night off as a nightmare, but Steve knew he couldn't do that. He had to make sure the vampire couldn't get back into his home.

He knew this wasn't the last he'd seen of Bucky, and he knew the vampire wouldn't be friendly the next time they met.

 

James – no, _Bucky_ , that was who he was again – was furious. He had been so close. _So close!_

Right this moment, Steve should be in the warehouse with him. The smaller man should be a newly-turned fledgling, _Bucky's_ fledgling, and clinging to his maker. Bucky could already tell that Steve would be strong-willed, but he would still need Bucky to teach him and care for him. 

He ran a hand over the coffin he had built just for Steve. It was identical to Bucky's own, if a bit smaller. Steve would be comfortable in it. It's intended occupant should have spent the day resting in it. It seemed lonely, sitting here empty.

Claiming Steve should have been so easy. The blond was weak even for a human. Bucky had Steve right where he wanted him, too. It was his own fault for being nice and letting Steve change a bit more willingly. There was no way out of it. Bucky was determined to keep him.

That's what he got for underestimating Steve, though. In all his years, Bucky had never had fucking garlic thrown right into his face. And since when did Steve have that cursed crucifix? Bucky hadn't sensed it once in all the times he had been in Steve's apartment. He supposed it was kinda funny. Steve was an expert at surviving and getting out of tricky situations. Of course he would try and get rid of Bucky once he learned the truth. 

As soon as the humiliation and anger wore off, Bucky began planning again. He didn't hold a grudge for what happened last night. That didn't mean that Steve was going to get off easy. Bucky was going to show Steve who was more powerful here, who was in charge. Bucky had no doubt that Steve was going to put up a fight. Hell, he'd be disappointed if the spunky little guy didn't. That fiery spirit was one of the reasons Bucky loved the guy. However, he needed to learn his place in this relationship.

More than anything, Bucky wanted to rush back over to Steve's home and finish what he started. But that would be rash. Surely, Steve had already come up with some plan to keep him out. While Bucky was confident that he could get past whatever it was, he decided to wait a few days before claiming his prize. Steve needed time to adjust to the idea of his soon-to-be new life. Steve was smart. Under all his denial and bravado, he had to know, deep down, that there was no escape from this. It would just make things harder if Bucky went back for him right now, when Steve was still scared and on guard. Bucky had been alone for over seventy years. He could wait a bit longer to have his companion.

The thrill of the chase always excited him. But this was a different sort of hunt. The reward Bucky sought was going to last so much longer than a few minutes. Steve Rogers was going to be his. The thought made Bucky smile. Soon, his lonely days would be over, and the blond would be with him forever. God, Bucky felt like he just fell in love with the little guy all over again.

 

The past few nights were rough for Steve. Sleep evaded him as paranoia took hold. It wasn't hard to figure out that Bucky had been preying on him in his sleep. The mere thought of that monster creeping up to his window kept him awake better than coffee ever could.

When he did sleep, his dreams were haunted by images of Bucky – covered in blood, brandishing sharp claws, mouth full of shark teeth. Sometimes he would tear apart nameless, faceless people and gleefully lick their blood from his hands. Other times, he would explode into a swarm of bats and fly into a dark sky that was illuminated by a bright red moon. Needless to say, these dreams did nothing to ease his fear. Steve could only hope that his protections around his home were enough to keep him safe.

It wasn’t like most people kept a handbook on how to ward of vampires. Steve felt foolish having to turn to the Internet, but what else was there to do? If he called his priest, would he even be believed? There were a couple other frequent customers at the art shop that Steve knew to be Wiccan. Did they know anything? Steve had no idea. After several hours of stress and research, Steve decided to try out the basics. If garlic and silver crosses worked, why shouldn’t everything else from popular lore?

Steve had assembled a decent sized collection of anti-vampire paraphernalia. He couldn’t afford more silver, but he did buy several more crosses. They hung in every room in his apartment. He kept the silver one close to him at all times. He was planning on having it blessed when he went to church on Sunday. Hmm, he should see if he could get some Holy Water, too.

His kitchen now stunk with the strings of garlic hanging up. (He told his friends that he was learning how to cook more Italian food.) Steve had also mashed a few cloves and smeared them around the outside of his windows. He kept a large jar filled with beads on the coffee table. There were a few sources that said vampires had to stop and count things like this. Worth a try, right? It would give Steve time to get away or grab a weapon. 

At a craft store, he was lucky enough to find a large piece of hawthorn wood. He spent an afternoon whittling it down into a stake. Bucky was fast and Steve doubted he had the strength to stab the weapon into the vampire’s chest should the need arise, but he was damn well going to try. 

Steve knew the moment was coming. After what Bucky did to him on the couch, after what he had said...Steve knew Bucky wanted him bad. God only knew why, but he did. And, damn it all, there was something in him that still longed for Bucky. Steve wanted to see that handsome face and enjoy the feel of the taller man’s body, no matter what the cost was. Steve had to stay strong. His life and soul were hanging in the balance. He couldn’t turn into a monster like his former friend. He _couldn’t_. Would his existence become nothing but hunting innocent people and stealing their life? That just couldn’t happen. Steve would die first.

Steve used to like the night. Somehow it made his creativity flow easily. He liked how the city lit up and he and his friends could go to a bar at midnight. Bucky had stolen that enjoyment from him. Now he looked into the darkness with wariness. Bucky was out there, just waiting for the right moment to strike. Steve wondered what the hell else was out there. If Bucky existed, then anything could. Ghosts, werewolves, trolls, fairies? Steve couldn’t believe his life had come to this.

Steve could only relax during the day. He rose early and spent time outdoors, safe in the knowledge that Bucky (probably) wasn’t out. He worked on his art and tried to focus on anything but the impending danger. And when the sun went down, he barricaded himself in his apartment and lived in a state of apprehension until the next dawn. He wished Bucky would stop keeping him in suspense. If confrontation was going to happen, Steve wanted it to be sooner than later. He was ready for the vampire, and he wanted this nightmare to be over with.

 

Bucky stalked the outside of Steve’s apartment for almost a week. He had to hand it to Steve; Bucky had no easy way into the place. The windows reeked of garlic, and he could sense more dangers lurking inside. Steve had worked hard to keep him out, it seemed. Bucky was actually proud. Leave it to the little punk to go all out. It made things more difficult, but it didn’t really matter. Bucky was going to get Steve eventually. This just made the game of cat and mouse more exciting.

Rather than force his way inside Steve’s home, Bucky would have to make Steve come outside. He knew that Steve was spending all night locked away in his small fortress. Maybe if Bucky waited it out, Steve would begin to feel safe and start to venture out after dark again. But Bucky didn’t have it in him to stall for much longer. What other options did he have? Could he stage a mugging outside, causing good-hearted Steve to come to the rescue? Could he compel one of his friends to lure the blond outside? Maybe he could just pull the fire alarm?

As it turned out, Steve came out on his own. The sun had just barely set, and Bucky sped over here as fast as he could. There was always a passerby or two that he could snack on while he staked out the apartment for a sign of his intended. Bucky had anticipated another uneventful night, so when Steve walked out the entrance of the building, Bucky was very surprised. Steve always manged to do that to him.

Steve was accompanied by another man, and both of them had their arms full of bags. Bucky became worried. Was Steve making a break for it? Bucky would chase him anywhere, but hunting Steve down would be a pain in the ass. 

They stopped at a nearby car.

“Thanks again for helping me carry this stuff,” Steve’s friend said.

“No problem, Sam,” Steve replied. He sounded casual, but Bucky could see wariness in his eyes. He glanced around every few moments. “I just hope you have fun in San Fransisco while I’m stuck here.”

Sam laughed. “We all need some vacation time. I’m sure I’ll spare you a thought every once in awhile.”

“Yeah, right.”

Steve stood and watched his friend drive away. From the shadows, Bucky observed as he fidgeted, obviously ill at ease. Steve’s hands were in his pockets, grasping something. He took another glance around before turning back toward his home. 

It was time to make a move. Bucky reached into Steve’s head and _called_. The blond froze mid-step. Bucky had not used this much power over Steve before, but now he wasn’t going to take any chances. If Steve got away now then it might take forever for Bucky to get another chance.

Slowly, Steve made his over to the alleyway Bucky lurked in. Bucky’s influence over Steve’s mind was still in tact, despite Steve being aware of what he was. His steps were stiff and lethargic, almost reminiscent of a puppet. Even now, with Bucky going full-force, Steve resisted him. Good. Bucky wanted a fight.

Bucky didn’t let up until Steve and him were in the back of the alley. This was the easy part. Bucky now either had to take Steve to the warehouse or get the blond to let him in the apartment. There was no way in hell he was going to make his first fledgling next to some trash cans. 

Bucky gently pinned Steve against the wall and covered his mouth before unleashing his hold. Perhaps that was a dumb move, but Bucky wanted a proper conversation with his love. He wanted to see those blue eyes spark.

“Hey, Stevie,” he greeted, “did you miss me?”

Steve’s reply was muffled, but there was certainly some colorful language. He tried to fight out of Bucky’s hold, pulling arms and kicking out. Such a spunky little guy. He wouldn’t have problems like this after he was Bucky’s forever. Steve would be strong enough to fight off most almost anyone.

“Come on, baby, don’t make this hard,” he pleaded. Was it so much to ask that Steve crawl into his lap, drink Bucky’s blood, and stay with him always? Blunt teeth dug into his palm. He was sure Steve was trying to hurt him, but the action had the opposite effect. Bucky held back a groan as his cock twitched. No, that could come later…

“I don’t want to do this here, Steve, and I bet you don’t, either,” Bucky said, voice smooth and cajoling. “So why don’t you just let me in your place, hmm? I’ve missed seeing your artwork.”

Steve kept glaring and kicking. What a stubborn punk.

“Or...I could take you back to my place,” Bucky mentioned. Steve’s eyes widened. Good, he was listening now. Bucky grinned, victorious. “Yeah, maybe we’ll do that. I can’t wait to show you the coffin I made you.”

Steve went still. His breathing became harder. He was thinking, trying to figure out his best options. Let him think. He wasn’t getting out of this.

Bucky removed his hand when Steve began to say his name. 

“Bucky, please,” Steve said, voice steady, “let me go. We can talk about this.”

“We are talking about this,” Bucky responded. “So, your place or mine?”

Steve was quiet for another few moments. “...Fine, we’ll go in my apartment.”

Bucky grinned. That was a bit easier than he thought it would be. He expected more of a fight. But if Steve was going to give in and become his, than Bucky wouldn’t argue.

He let Steve off the wall, but he kept one of Steve’s hands firmly grasped in his own. He didn’t want the blond to cause a commotion. Bucky smiled down at his companion. “Let’s go.”

Steve walked with him until they were almost at the mouth of the alley. The smaller man was tense, but Bucky anticipated that. What he didn’t anticipate, however, was Steve pulling that damned cross from out of his pocket and pushing it again Bucky’s hand.

The vampire immediately recoiled, pulling his hand away from the offending object. It felt like acid had been poured on him. He should have known that Steve had an ace up his sleeve.

Steve didn’t hesitate. As soon as Bucky let go off him, he bolted across the street. If he could just get back inside, he would be safe again.

Bucky snarled and rushed after him. The pain slowed him down and made it hard to focus. The burn took its sweet time fading away. A few people stopped to watch the pair. A sprinting little punk and another, angry man chasing after him. Bucky hoped none of them would call the police. He couldn’t deal with another nuisance right now.

Bucky almost had Steve back in his grasp in the lobby, but all Steve had to do was brandish the cross again and Bucky shrank back. Bucky could do nothing but watch as Steve made his way to the elevator. Those lovely blue eyes were locked on Bucky, glaring, as the doors shut. Okay, Steve got a little head start. No matter. Bucky was determined to get him tonight. He didn’t care if Steve had the contents of a whole cathedral in his home.

After recovering and wiping the recent memories of everyone in the lobby, Bucky dashed up the stairs and made his way to Steve’s door. It was like walking against an impossibly strong wind. Whatever Steve had in his apartment, there must be a lot of him to have this effect on him.

How was he going to get in? Steve was on guard and knew Bucky’s tricks. Kicking in the door would cause too much attention. He would have enough trouble getting Steve without fighting off nosy neighbors. Even Bucky couldn’t impose his will over a whole floor of people.

A nearby door opened. Bucky offered the blond entering the hallway a brief glance. Wait, was this – yes! This had to be Steve’s friend, Clint. Steve liked to talk about his friends that lived nearby. Things were beginning to look up for Bucky.

The man was sleepy, and slightly hungover, so gaining control of him was easy. His slouched posture became rigid, and his eyes clouded. Nothing more than a very useful puppet.

Bucky ducked back into a shadowy spot on the wall and blended in. He couldn’t risk Steve seeing him if this was going to work. 

Under Bucky’s control, Clint knocked firmly on Steve’s door. Bucky could sense Steve’s presence as he came near his side of the door.

“Steve,” he made Clint call, “it’s Clint. Could you open up?”

Steve hesitated. “What’re you doing here, Clint? I thought you were out with Natasha.”

Damn it. He had to think fast. “We came back early,” Clint responded. Bucky hoped Steve didn’t notice how robotic his friend sounded. “So...can you let me in? Me and Natasha need to borrow a cup of aspirin.”

“...Wait there.” Steve moved away from the door. Bucky grew nervous. Was Steve onto him? Was he going to burst out of his home brandishing more crosses or garlic?

The door opened after a few moments. There was only enough space for Steve to stick out his arm and hand his friend a little blue and white container. “Okay, here you go -”

Bucky moved fast. In a flash, he had knocked Clint to the side and pushed his way into the apartment. It wasn’t entirely easy. There was still an invisible force pressing against him, but Bucky powered through it. He wasn’t going to be locked out again.

He shut the door behind him and reached out for Steve, only to be met with another burn on his hand. Of course Steve was still carrying the cross. Probably didn’t put it down for a second. 

He growled and pushed Steve back further into his living room. Good lord, what had Steve been up to? The apartment absolutely reeked of garlic. It hung up in the kitchen and in every doorway. For every drawing pinned to the wall, there had to be at least two wooden crosses. He could smell the acrid smell of holy water in the little bottles that were scattered everywhere. 

Steve was slowly backing away, cross brandished in front of him. “Stay away, Bucky.”

Bucky steeled himself for oncoming pain. Steve’s booby-trapped home was nothing compared to what he had gone through in Siberia all those years ago. He was going to claim Steve tonight, and nothing was going to get in his way. He stalked toward the retreating man. He was done playing nice. “Steve, you know that you’re going to come with me,” Bucky insisted. “Will going through all this make you feel better?”

Steve bumped into his coffee table. He stayed still, giving Bucky a level stare. Bucky had him cornered, and Steve’s only weapon was the cross. He could move fast enough to knock the cursed thing out of Steve’s hand and then snatch up the blond.

Steve reached back and knocked a plastic jar off the table. Hundreds of multi-colored little beads scattered across the floor. Really, this old trick?

“Three thousand, five hundred and eighteen,” Bucky counted as his eyes roamed over the mess. 

Steve turned pale. He had anticipated having more time after that move. He had to do something fast. Bucky was slower in here, but far from powerless. He continued his way to the kitchen, never turning his back on the vampire. Bucky sighed and followed him.

Bucky stopped right before the wood floor turned to linoleum. “It stinks in here, Steve, but garlic doesn’t hurt unless I touch it.” The strings were a bit too high for Steve to jump up and grab.

Steve picked up a bottle of holy water and screwed off the cap. “Don’t make me do this, Buck. You can still leave.”

Bucky raised a brow. The splashing water would definitely sting, but Bucky could dodge most of it. “I’m not leaving without you.”

Steve nodded. Challenge accepted.

Bucky waited a few short moments before rushing at Steve. If he got to the blond fast enough then he could knock the offending objects away. Steve didn’t hesitate in flinging the water around. The droplets fizzled and burned when they touched Bucky’s skin. Little trails of smoke left the afflictions. Okay, that did a lot more than sting. If his mission wasn’t so important, Bucky would stop to frantically wipe away the burning liquid. That would only give Steve more time to run away. Bucky would just have to deal. He could feed later and rejuvenate himself.

When he got close, Steve surprised him yet again by tossing the cross at his face. Bucky howled in pain as it made contact. This time, he couldn’t help but pause and tend to the wounded area.

A drawer open. When Bucky looked up, his un-beating heart dropped.

Steve was holding a stake. A sharp, wooden stake. He wasn’t actually planning on…

“One last chance, Bucky,” he warned. “Leave.”

“Steve...you wouldn’t,” Bucky breathed. He hadn’t been threatened with a stake in some time. No one ever managed to pierce his heart, but they always filled him with dread. He could get it away from Steve, but the sight of the man he loved holding a weapon meant to kill him filled him with more pain than any holy object ever could.

“Don’t make me,” was all Steve responded with. 

Bucky tried to reach into Steve’s head again. But he was weakened, and the overwhelming stench of garlic made it hard to concentrate. 

Steve took a few steps toward him. “Bucky, please.” Even if his face didn’t show it, Bucky could hear wariness in Steve’s voice. He didn’t really want to do this. He still cared about Bucky.

“Stevie -”

They both jumped when the front door suddenly burst open. Damn, Bucky must be too weak to even sense people coming. Who in the world -?

Clint stormed in with a red-head who could only be Natasha. Bucky could practically feel the rage and worry coming off them. Natasha was holding a small pistol. Shit, he should have knocked Clint out while he had the chance.

Natasha’s eyes widened at the scene. “Steve, what’s going on? Who is this guy?”

“He was just leaving.” Steve was still trying to get him leave (mostly) unharmed. It was too late for that.

“This guy did something to me, Nat,” Clint accused. “Hypnosis or some shit. He used me to break in here.”

She aimed her gun at Bucky. “Okay, asshole, you have the count of three to get out of here. You’ll be lucky to get down the street before the police show up.”

Damn, what was he going to do now? He doubted the woman had silver bullets but it would take a bit of time for him to heal from a gunshot wound. It was time for drastic action. 

Using all the strength he had left, he quickly made his way to Steve’s knife drawer and started to fling them in the intruders’ direction. There were the expected screams and sounds of shuffling around. Bucky didn’t want to actually kill them, since that would only upset Steve, but he did want them to get the hell out.

It wasn’t long before a bullet pierced his shoulder. He hissed under his breath but bore it. He’d had worse.

“Nat! Stop!” Steve cried. “”Let me handle it!”

“This guy is fucking crazy, Steve!” she retorted. “I think you really need us right now.”

Bucky was reaching for a pot to throw at them next when Steve lunged at him with the stake. He had just enough time to dodge, causing Steve to stumble forward a bit. He quickly recovered and tried again. Clint chose this moment to run at him. He tackled Bucky from the side, almost shoving him right into Steve’s weapon. Bucky growled in frustration and pushed Clint away. The man hit the wall hard and sunk down. He was alive, but he would be unconscious for awhile.

“You son of a bitch!” Natasha got another hit on his arm.

At that moment, Steve came at him again. Bucky’s uninjured arm shot out and gripped the stake right above the pointed end. He swung around, bringing Steve with him. The blond yelped and lost his hold on the weapon. He tumbled toward the living room. Unfortunately, Natasha chose that moment to shoot again. Bucky could only watch as the bullet hit Steve in the side. The smaller man clutched his wound and fell to his knees. The scent of his wonderful blood filled the air.

Bucky tossed the stake away and rushed to his love’s side. Natasha cried out and did the same. No way in hell was Bucky letting her near Steve after what she just did.

“Get out!” he screamed in her face. He had been told often in the past that he looked frightening when he was angry. This moment was no exception.

Natasha looked panicked, as if she were facing an angry tiger. He pressed into her mind to make sure she obeyed. “I-I’ll get help. Put pressure on his wound.” She ran out quickly.

There wasn’t much time to spare. Bucky lifted Steve to cradle him in his arms. He looked over Steve’s form sadly. He was bleeding heavily. The bullet must have hit something important. Bucky once loved the sight of Steve’s blood. Now it frightened him.

Bucky knew what he had to do.

He leaned close to Steve’s pained face. “Steve, baby, please. Let me save you.”

Steve understood what he meant. “Bucky...” he started. Why was he hesitating? He couldn’t refuse this. Bucky wouldn’t allow it -

And then, to his everlasting joy, Steve nodded. He shut his eyes and bent his head to the side, exposing more of his neck. He was already losing blood. Bucky didn’t need to take any more. He sliced open his wrist the same way he did weeks ago and lowered it to Steve’s mouth. He laughed weakly when Steve drank from him, his face scrunching up at the taste. The moment was bitter-sweet for Bucky. He had dreamed of this for months, but not like this.

Bucky had never done this before. He didn’t know how much to give Steve, or if it was possible to give too much. He stroked Steve’s hair as he continued to suck on Bucky’s wrist. The act felt so intimate to Bucky. He had come associate his vampirism with taking life and destroying. Now he was giving a new life, and creating something beautiful.

Steve pulled back after a few minutes and relaxed in Bucky’s hold. It was jarring to hear Steve’s heart stop after Bucky had grown so accustomed to hearing it. Steve looked like he belonged in one of his own paintings. Posed provocatively, blood stained mouth standing out against milky skin. He was a masterpiece. 

His scent changed soon after. Instead of smelling like sickness and warmth and food, Steve was cool and metallic and oddly sweet. It reminded Bucky of his own scent. He supposed this was what their kind smelled like.

Bucky knew he had to leave soon. This cramped space filled with garlic and holy objects was no place for his new fledgling to wake up in. Natasha would be back any moment. He needed to get Steve to his coffin as soon as possible.

But he could spare just a few more moments watching Steve. He never wanted to forget this.

 

Steve woke surrounded by darkness. His mind was blank. He was perfectly content to lay wherever he was and enjoy the peace. Steve didn’t feel hot or cold, tired or energetic. He simply existed.

It wasn’t long before his sense returned to him, though. He was still comfortable, but he began to wonder where he was. It was too dark to be his bedroom. Recent memory replayed slowly. There was Sam leaving, Bucky, running, Natasha, pain…

The image of Bucky hovering above him stood out vividly. Steve could almost still feel the weight of Bucky’s wrist on his lips and taste the cold, coppery blood in his mouth.

Steve’s throat was suddenly bone dry. It was all he could focus on. He instinctively knew it was thinking about blood that caused this, and that more blood was the only thing that could fix it. He needed more now.

The peace was gone, and Steve was frantic. Was he trapped in this darkness? What was going on? He kicked out a few times. His feet hit nothing, but he did notice he was laying on something hard. He reached out and felt a hard surface above him. It didn’t take much pressure to get it to move. What could only be a lid opened with a creak. Steve flinched when a sparse amount of light hit his eyes. Good God, it stung.

The discomfort faded after a few moments. Steve pushed the lid all the way open and sat up. He realized that he was sitting in a coffin. What else? He was a vampire now, wasn’t he? It was amazing how safe and relaxed he felt inside of it. He was entertaining the thought of laying back down when something caught his eye.

Across from him was another coffin. Identical to his, if a bit longer. Bucky was in there. Steve could just _tell_. His burning throat was forgotten as he climbed out of his coffin and crawled over to Bucky’s. He lifted the lid, eager to lay eyes on the man.

Bucky laid flat on his back with his hands folded on his stomach. The only thing that stopped him from looking like a corpse on display were his wide-open eyes. Despite that, he was asleep. Steve leaned in closer. His instincts told him to stay close to Bucky, that he needed to be near his maker. Bucky blinked and stirred after a moment. His gaze focused on Steve and he smiled widely.

“Steve,” he greeted. He opened his arms in invitation.

Steve eagerly climbed on top of Bucky and rested his head on the other man’s chest. Bucky embraced him tightly in return. They stayed like that for some time, content to just be with each other.

Steve soon remembered his thirst. His new fangs popped out, eager to sink into something. He let out a soft growl.

Bucky knew what that meant. He sat up some, moving Steve with him. “It’s okay, baby. I got you.” Bucky pushed Steve back some so he could pull off his own shirt. He laid back down and held Steve to his bare chest. “Take all you want.”

Steve obliged and bit none-to-gently into Bucky’s flesh. Feeding like this felt as natural as blinking. The blood was thick and cold, but it would do for now. Anything would satisfy him at the moment. 

Bucky sighed happily and stroked Steve’s back. This was soothing for both of them. Bucky was providing and Steve was being cared for. “We’ll get you something fresher soon,” he promised.

Steve pulled away when he’d had his fill. He folded his arms across Bucky’s chest and rested his chin on them. “Master,” he said, surprising himself. And yet, it sounded right. That’s what Bucky was to him now. His maker, his master.

Bucky wasn’t happy with the title. He frowned and shook his head. “No, Steve. Don’t call me that.” He cradled Steve’s face in his hands. “I’m just ‘Bucky’, okay? I’m always just Bucky to you.”

It didn’t feel right, but Steve nodded. Whatever his mas – _Bucky_ wanted.

With his hunger sated, Steve was now overcome with a different sort of desire. He scooted forward until he was hovering above Bucky’s grinning face. Bucky leaned up and met him for a kiss. Steve gripped Bucky’s shoulders tightly and pressed closer. The other man became his sole focus. 

Steve didn’t protest when Bucky’s roaming hands began to pull off his clothes. It only excited him more. He pulled away some and helped Bucky out of his shoes and pants before they came back together. He sat on Bucky’s lap and let out a breathy laugh when Bucky grabbed his ass and pulled him closer. Bucky’s skin no longer felt cold to him, but it was still as hard and smooth as Steve was used to.

Together they touched and felt and nipped and rocked against each other. Arousal grew quickly between them. Steve had never been intimate with anyone before. Dating was rare and complicated thing for him. Now he felt glad that his first time could be with Bucky. He knew that he and Bucky would be together forever the same way he knew the Earth was round. They were bound together by blood and soul.

He ran his hand down Bucky’s chest, his stomach, and then settled between his legs. He wrapped a hand around Bucky’s hard cock and started to pump it up and down. 

Bucky inhaled sharply and rewarded him with another kiss. “Mmm, baby, that’s so nice.” He licked a stripe up his large hand and returned the favor. Steve’s hips jerked up to meet Bucky’s ministrations. He could have come just from this, but Steve wanted more. 

He placed his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and lifted himself up onto Bucky’s cock. If his heart was still beating, Steve was certain that it would be pumping overtime. The feel of Bucky’s arousal against his hole was maddening. He wanted so bad to push down, but he wanted Bucky’s permission first.

Grinning widely, Bucky moved his hands to Steve hips and slowly pushed in. It didn’t hurt like Steve thought it would. Maybe he was past feeling pain so easily. There wasn’t much sensation for him at first, but then pleasure started to spread through his body. He started to move up and down to meet Bucky’s thrusts. 

Their coupling was almost animalistic. Focus on everything else was lost once they were joined together. They only knew each other and their mutual growing pleasure. Steve came close to the edge fast. As the orgasm hit him, he leaned down and buried his fangs in Bucky’s shoulder. It satisfied a deep primal need in him that he hadn’t even know was there. Maybe it was his way of marking his territory now.

Bucky cried out from the bite and dug his sharp fingernails into Steve’s hips. Steve shuddered as he felt Bucky come inside of him. His fangs dug in even deeper.

Bucky laid back down in his coffin, bringing Steve with him. Steve unlatched from his maker’s skin and licked off the cool blood. They were not tired from their efforts, nor was there any need to catch their breath. They simply clung together and enjoyed the pleasure high.

Steve lazily kissed across Bucky’s shoulder, up his neck, and found his plump mouth again. He knew without a doubt that he was where he belonged.

 

Bucky loved winter in New York. 

He was free to wear as many layers as he wanted. Everyone assumed that his cold skin was caused by the weather. It was easy to lure away prey with the offer of “going someplace warm” with a cocky grin.

He enjoyed the holiday décor, the sight of hundreds of warm bodies flooding the shops, the strong and healthy avoiding sickness. He adored the sight of barren trees and frosted grass, clear night skies, and falling snow coating the ground. But what he loved the most was having somebody to share these things with.

Steve’s gloved hand held onto his own tightly as they lazily strolled down a crowded street. The nights were longer now, so they felt no rush to feed. Steve had confided in him that he loved moments like these, that they made him feel human. Bucky knew that he would get over that eventually, but he humored his lover for now. 

Steve had taken well enough to his new life. It had only been eight months since Bucky turned him and Steve was turning out to be a promising little fledgling. As he was still young, his instincts would take over often, resulting in a well-fed new vampire and an older one with a mess to clean up. Bucky didn’t mind, though. Everything Steve did delighted him. He made simple things like sleeping and hunting so much better.

Of course, Steve was still as stubborn as a bull. Bucky could tell when the blond would have a lapse in sense and not want to feed. He even tried to flee from his maker a few times and run back to his old apartment. How ridiculous. It had been rented out to somebody else months ago. Steve knew that he couldn’t let his old friends see him. (And it wasn’t like they didn’t try to find Steve. There were still missing posters for him around the neighborhood). Steve wasn’t human anymore, and he needed to accept that completely. Bucky told Steve that he didn’t want to be called “Master”, but he would gladly play the role to keep his fledgling safe and healthy. 

Bucky lavished Steve with every luxury he could. He personally had not cared too much for possessions besides clothes and his coffin - however, he wanted Steve to have whatever he wanted. He would either steal, hypnotize employees, or use stolen money to get Steve anything from expensive clothes, to art supplies, a laptop, books. He was always rewarded with a smile, and often more. Bucky entertained the thought of stopping and getting Steve a gift just so he could get the blond on top of him later. Steve could be amazingly dominant and possessive when they were having sex. Bucky found himself on his hands and knees on many occasions. He loved having Steve’s attention on him like that, making him feel wanted and claimed.

Bucky had spent over fifty years by himself, and now he had someone he could spend centuries with. His existence was exciting now. He was no longer surviving day to day, but truly enjoying his time. For the first time since he left for the war in Europe, he felt like he was _living_.

Steve lifted his head and sniffed the air.

Bucky could feel his excitement. “Smell something good, Stevie?” he asked, voice too low for by-passers to hear.

“That one in the leather,” Steve answered eagerly. 

Bucky followed his gaze to an older man decked out in black leather. He was slightly drunk and hanging around younger clubbers. Another poor soul despertaely trying to hold onto his youth. He looked delicious. “You always pick the best ones, Steve. I don’t know what’d I do without you.”

“Let’s go, then.” Steve returned his smile, sharp fangs already extended.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Art for this fic](http://koreanrage.tumblr.com/post/149592884590/all-of-my-pieces-for-some-longing-some-deadly) done by the amazing [koreanrage](http://koreanrage.tumblr.com/%22)!


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